The Hunters Box Set, page 60
part #1 of The Hunters Series
“Simon wouldn’t do that,” she muttered. Her insistence was meant to convince herself more than Cobb. “He’d never put me at risk.”
Her sense of betrayal was now on full alert. She couldn’t imagine that Dade had set her up, but the possibility was hard to ignore.
Why did the goons follow us into the tunnels?
Was it to find Simon?
Or on behalf of Simon?
Suddenly, she was filled with doubt.
Cobb turned his head and fought the urge to smile.
This was the Sarah that he needed for their meeting.
The one determined to get the truth.
Chapter Forty-Six
El Agami, Egypt
(17 miles west of Alexandria)
Simon Dade trudged through the white sand, searching the faces in the conservatively dressed crowd. Though many of the beaches on the Mediterranean were private—owned and monitored by the resorts that dotted the coast—El Agami beach was open to the public and governed by local law, which meant women were forced to adhere to the strict standards of dress common in this part of the world.
That meant more burkas than bikinis.
And less skin than an Amish funeral.
Dade shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun as he scanned in both directions. Sarah had told him to meet her there at 1:00 p.m. He checked his watch and noted that it was already a quarter after. It wasn’t like Sarah to be late.
He was ready to loop back toward the buildings that lined the shore when his phone started to vibrate. He glanced down and saw a blocked number.
He lifted the phone to his ear. “Sarah?”
“Simon,” she replied.
He smiled at the sound of her voice. “I’ve been walking up and down the strand for fifteen minutes. Can you see me?”
“Of course I can see you.”
He spun in a circle, still searching. “Where are you?”
“Stop spinning,” she demanded. “Look out into the Med.”
Dade did as he was told. He could see dozens of boats bobbing in the waves, everything from kayaks to catamarans. In the center of them all was a speedboat, with Sarah standing on the bow.
He grinned at the sight. “Where do you want to pick me up?”
“Right here. I know you know how to swim.”
Before Dade could reply, she disconnected the call.
He knew from her tone she wasn’t joking.
Dade pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around his phone. For a moment he contemplated leaving them both on the shore, but the information stored in the device was too precious to be left behind. He would rather lose the names and numbers to water damage than risk them falling into the wrong hands.
He held his polo above the waves as he waded into the sea.
◊ ◊ ◊
Cobb waited for Dade to pull himself onboard before he started the engines and steered the boat into open water, putting some distance between themselves and the surrounding vessels. Dade unwrapped his phone from his shirt and smiled. The bundle had been splashed a few times, but his phone appeared to be fine.
He looked up at Sarah. “You know, there are easier ways to get me out of my clothes. You could’ve just asked.”
It was an attempt at humor.
It didn’t work.
Sarah snatched the phone from his hand and flung it overboard.
Dade was so surprised he didn’t know how to react. “What the hell?”
She didn’t smile. “I had to make sure you were clean.”
He glanced at Cobb, then back at Sarah. “Clean? Is that why you put me through all of that—because you think I’m wearing a wire?”
Sarah ignored the query. She was there to ask questions, not answer them. “Who were the two men that chased us through the city?”
“The two men? Do you mean last week?”
“Of course I mean last week. Why, do you get chased through the city a lot?”
“Not a lot,” he joked, “but—”
“Who are they?” she demanded.
“Trust me,” he said, trying to keep his cool, “they have nothing to do with either one of you. It’s just a little problem I’m having.”
“Really? They have nothing to do with us, huh?” Spittle flew from her mouth as she vented her frustration. “If that’s the case, how do you explain this?”
She grabbed the photo of Tarek and thrust it toward Dade, narrowly missing his face by inches. He forced a smile and took a step back to focus on the image. Then she watched his eyes widen in fascination as he studied the mutilated corpse of the goon. In the photo, Tarek looked like he had been dropped into a food processor.
“I’ve seen him look better,” Dade admitted.
Then, as he took the time to think things through, his cool demeanor started to melt in the hot Egyptian sun. First he looked at the photo, then he glanced over at Cobb, who stared at him without a hint of amusement on his face, then back to the picture of his adversary. As he did, beads of sweat pooled on his upper lip.
Suddenly, he realized how far they were from shore.
“Wait,” Dade demanded. “How did you get this? Did you…?”
Sarah let the question linger. If he was willing to believe that she or Cobb had killed the goon, she wasn’t going to correct him.
At least not yet.
“That’s not important,” she said as she handed the photo to Cobb. “Right now, you need to explain what you’ve gotten us into.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” She was tired of Dade’s evasive responses. She needed answers, and she was willing to do whatever was necessary to get them.
She lifted her shirt and pulled her Glock 19 from her waistband. “The only thing that connects him to me is you. So you see my problem—if someone sent him after me, there’s only one person it could be.”
Dade fell silent again.
To drive home her impatience, she aimed the gun at Dade. “Simon, I swear to God I’m not bluffing. One more chance before I get pissed: what the hell is going on?”
Dade took a deep breath. “His name is Farouk Tarek. He works—I mean, worked—for a local gangster named Hassan. Trust me, Hassan is bad news. He thinks he’s the King of Alexandria, and everyone else is his pawn.”
“Including you?” she asked.
Dade closed his eyes and slicked back his wet hair. “Yeah, I used to work for him. I didn’t like it, but he gave me no choice.”
“Doing what?” she asked.
“I was his security consultant. Not personal security, mind you. I wasn’t willing to protect that bastard. I simply showed him how to get past everyone else’s security. I explained the blind spots, the workarounds: everything he needed to avoid detection.”
“What was he targeting?”
“Banks, businesses, ritzy homes—anywhere that might have hoards of cash or valuables.” Dade glanced away. “You have to understand: it was my only way out of a bad situation. When you owe money to the wrong people, they don’t just tax you, they own you. You do whatever they want, or you don’t wake up in the morning.”
“And Hassan is the wrong person to owe?”
Dade nodded. “One of the worst. But he gave me a choice: he’d forgive my debt in exchange for doing what I’m good at. I figured most of the stuff was insured anyway, and a clean in-and-out is much better than a messy smash-and-grab. I know they weren’t victimless crimes, but at least my way kept people from getting hurt.”
“Except it didn’t, right?” She had been around enough criminals in her life to know that something invariably went wrong. “Tell me what happened.”
Dade glanced away again. “There was this Saudi sheik. He had a big, extravagant house with minimal security. We knew that he and his bodyguards were leaving the country for a few days, so we timed our break-in for the first night. I figured we’d clean him out in a couple of hours, and he’d never know what hit him.”
“Let me guess: he left a guard behind.”
“Worse,” Dade answered. “When the goons broke in, they found three housekeepers and a gardener. Normally they would have been staying in the servants’ quarters out back, but I guess they decided to pamper themselves in the mansion for a couple of days while the sheik was away. They weren’t a threat, but Hassan’s men didn’t hesitate. They just gunned them down and started packing up the loot.”
“And?” she demanded.
“And what?”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“A week after the massacre, the police received a recording from a security camera mounted outside the property. It showed two men—both employees of Hassan—pulling up to the house in a van and leaving a couple of hours later. It wasn’t enough to get Hassan arrested, but it was enough to rattle his cage.”
Sarah worked out the rest on her own. “It was you, wasn’t it? You sent the video to the police. You couldn’t let them get away with murder, and you thought the heat it brought would force Hassan to stop.”
“That’s what I’d hoped,” Dade admitted. “But somehow he figured out that I had set him up, and I’ve been running from him ever since.”
Sarah lowered her weapon. “You went from being one of his biggest assets to being his biggest liability. That’s why he sent the goons to kill you.”
Dade shook his head. “Killing isn’t enough for them. They could have done that to me on the street. No, Hassan wants to catch me alive so he can watch me suffer.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Dade couldn’t stop thinking about the image of Tarek. It would stay with him for quite some time. “What happened to the other one?”
“The other one?” Sarah asked.
“The other goon that chased us. Trust me, Tarek was too dumb to work alone. If he was tracking you to get to me, you can bet that Kamal was there, too.”
“Kamal who?”
“Gaz Kamal,” Dade replied. “He’s the uglier, meaner half of the demonic duo.”
“He was there,” Cobb assured him. Although he had promised Sarah that she could run the interrogation, he sensed that the conversation was headed in the wrong direction. This was his subtle way to get things back on track. “We saw Kamal in the tunnels with six of his men. Seven if you count Tarek.”
“Wait. What tunnels?” Dade asked.
Sarah answered. “The tunnels beneath the city.”
Dade’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. “Wait a goddamn minute! That was you? The explosion was you? What in the hell were you thinking? Do you know how many innocent people were killed in the—”
“Simon,” she shouted to cut him off, “you know damn well that I would never blow up a city. And neither would Jack. We did everything in our power to stop it.”
“Wait,” Dade said as he tried to fit the pieces in his head, “are you saying that Kamal and Tarek planted the bombs? Why would they do that? That was Hassan’s territory. Do you know how much money he’s going to lose from the blast?”
Sarah shook her head. “It wasn’t them, either.”
“Then I’m really confused.” Dade clasped his hand behind his head and squeezed the back of his neck. “If it wasn’t them and it wasn’t you, who the hell was it?”
Sarah tried to explain. “Kamal and Tarek followed us into the tunnels, but someone else followed them. Whoever those guys were, they weren’t messing around. We know they slaughtered at least four of Kamal’s crew, including Tarek himself. They also rigged the tunnels with explosives and collapsed the city block.”
Dade considered the information. He chose to focus on the part of the equation that affected him directly. “Do you know if Kamal escaped?”
Sarah nodded. “He made it out of the tunnels before the bombs detonated. He might have been swallowed in the rubble, but we have to assume that he’s still alive.”
“Great,” he said sarcastically. “Glad to hear it.”
“Believe it or not, it is good news for you,” Cobb offered.
Dade stared at him. “How do you figure?”
“At least you know what he looks like. I can’t say the same about the bombers.”
Dade shrugged. “What does it really matter? It’s not like you’ll be sticking around to deal with them.”
“Of course we will,” she said defiantly.
“No, you won’t,” Dade argued. “We have to get you out of the city as soon as possible. In fact, we need to get you out of the country. I don’t know what you’ve stumbled into, but it’s only going to get worse. Kamal and Hassan will be out for blood, and it’s pretty clear that the other guys don’t give a damn about collateral damage. They were willing to blow up a huge chunk of the city, and I’d be willing to bet that they’re looking for you right now.”
“Simon,” she said, “you’re not following. We can’t leave the city because the mystery men took a member of our team. We’re not going anywhere until we get her back. And you’re going to help us.”
“Sarah, I just told you—I’m on the outside looking in. Kamal wants me dead. Hassan wants me tortured. And I have absolutely no idea why anyone would want to blow up a city block. Simply put, I don’t know who you’re looking for.”
“Listen,” she shouted, “you kept me in the dark about Hassan and his goons. Everything that happened after that—the uninvited guests, the explosion in the city, the disappearance of my friend—it all traces back to your mistake.”
She leaned in closer and whispered in a threatening tone. “You might not know who we’re looking for, but you’re damn well going to find out. It’s time to start atoning for your sins, or else I’ll shoot you myself and feed your body to the sharks.”
Cobb watched as a look of panic washed over Dade. His tanned face grew pale. His dark eyes glazed over. His mouth hung open in fear. Cobb had no idea what Sarah had whispered, but it sure as hell was effective.
Dade stammered. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“We do,” Cobb said. “You can start by looking into the ambulance that the bombers used to escape. We tried to chase it, but it got away from us in the chaos. By the time we caught up to it, the kidnappers were gone and so was our colleague.”
“Does your colleague have a name?”
“Of course she does,” Cobb said, “but I’ll be damned if I’m going to tell it to you. So far, you’ve proven to be the least reliable asset I’ve ever worked with. Prove your worth, then we’ll see if we can trust you with her name.”
Although Dade had plenty of reasons to help their cause, Cobb figured it couldn’t hurt to mention that they were looking for a woman. After all, it was the guilt Dade felt from losing a bunch of young girls to the sex trade business that had made him feel indebted to Sarah to begin with, so Cobb decided to use the fact to his advantage.
“What do you know about the ambulance?” Dade asked.
Cobb showed him a picture of the vehicle on his phone. “Standard issue Volkswagen for Egyptian Emergency Services.”
Dade was familiar with it. “Probably stolen in the chaos after the explosion.”
“I’m not so sure,” Cobb explained. “The driver was wearing a paramedic’s uniform, and his partner was calmly looking through the victims. I could be wrong, but I think they had this planned in advance. Maybe not the kidnapping, but at least the idea to use an ambulance to evacuate injured colleagues from the scene.”
Sarah reached into her bag and handed a street map to Dade. It traced the route of Cobb and McNutt’s pursuit through the city. “We need you to reach out to every source you have. Start with those along these streets. Find out if anyone saw anything in the last few days. Maybe someone caught a glimpse of the vehicle or recognized a face. And if you have any clients with surveillance cameras along the route, pull that footage whether they want you to or not. Don’t take no for an answer.”
Dade nodded in understanding.
“Seriously,” she stressed, “I don’t care if you have to burn every bridge you’ve built in this city to get the information that we need. This is a matter of life or death.”
“I get it,” Dade assured her. “I’ll start checking right away. Or at least I could have if you hadn’t hurled my phone into the Mediterranean.”
“When did I do that?” she asked innocently.
Though it had appeared as if she had tossed his phone into the water, she had actually palmed the device and had thrown a burner phone instead. The sleight of hand not only grabbed Dade’s attention, it had given Cobb the opportunity to hack into his phone.
Using a program that Garcia had given to him before they left, Cobb had secretly copied the phone’s contents—contacts, pictures, texts, and so on—without ever touching the device. Before terminating the wireless connection, Cobb had also inserted a next-generation GPS virus into his phone. Even a surveillance expert like Dade would never notice the tracker because it wasn’t an actual bug. It was merely a line of code that would force his phone to send out a continuous signal for Garcia to follow.
“Here you go,” she said as she handed the phone to Dade. “I know how much you depend on this thing. It would have been cruel to throw it into the sea.”
Dade grinned at the turn of events. “You sneaky devil! That’s the Sarah I remember from six years ago. I’m glad she’s still in there, somewhere, under that rough exterior.”
Sarah laughed as she squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Simon. I’m the same ol’ Sarah from back in the day. Always have been, always will be.”
“Glad to hear it!”
She leaned in closer and whispered, “But here’s the thing. The sweet girl that you remember is the fake Sarah. The real Sarah is the angry one.”
“If you say so.”
She dug her nails into his skin. “Oh, I do say so. And if you fuck me on this, Kamal and Hassan will be the least of your problems. Understood?”
“Understood,” he said as he took a step back. “Take me back to shore, and I’ll get started right away. I promise.”
Cobb shook his head. “Not quite yet. Before we go anywhere, I need you to do me a favor. You’re not going to like it, but you’re going to do it anyway. After all, my life was endangered in the tunnels, too.”
Her sense of betrayal was now on full alert. She couldn’t imagine that Dade had set her up, but the possibility was hard to ignore.
Why did the goons follow us into the tunnels?
Was it to find Simon?
Or on behalf of Simon?
Suddenly, she was filled with doubt.
Cobb turned his head and fought the urge to smile.
This was the Sarah that he needed for their meeting.
The one determined to get the truth.
Chapter Forty-Six
El Agami, Egypt
(17 miles west of Alexandria)
Simon Dade trudged through the white sand, searching the faces in the conservatively dressed crowd. Though many of the beaches on the Mediterranean were private—owned and monitored by the resorts that dotted the coast—El Agami beach was open to the public and governed by local law, which meant women were forced to adhere to the strict standards of dress common in this part of the world.
That meant more burkas than bikinis.
And less skin than an Amish funeral.
Dade shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun as he scanned in both directions. Sarah had told him to meet her there at 1:00 p.m. He checked his watch and noted that it was already a quarter after. It wasn’t like Sarah to be late.
He was ready to loop back toward the buildings that lined the shore when his phone started to vibrate. He glanced down and saw a blocked number.
He lifted the phone to his ear. “Sarah?”
“Simon,” she replied.
He smiled at the sound of her voice. “I’ve been walking up and down the strand for fifteen minutes. Can you see me?”
“Of course I can see you.”
He spun in a circle, still searching. “Where are you?”
“Stop spinning,” she demanded. “Look out into the Med.”
Dade did as he was told. He could see dozens of boats bobbing in the waves, everything from kayaks to catamarans. In the center of them all was a speedboat, with Sarah standing on the bow.
He grinned at the sight. “Where do you want to pick me up?”
“Right here. I know you know how to swim.”
Before Dade could reply, she disconnected the call.
He knew from her tone she wasn’t joking.
Dade pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around his phone. For a moment he contemplated leaving them both on the shore, but the information stored in the device was too precious to be left behind. He would rather lose the names and numbers to water damage than risk them falling into the wrong hands.
He held his polo above the waves as he waded into the sea.
◊ ◊ ◊
Cobb waited for Dade to pull himself onboard before he started the engines and steered the boat into open water, putting some distance between themselves and the surrounding vessels. Dade unwrapped his phone from his shirt and smiled. The bundle had been splashed a few times, but his phone appeared to be fine.
He looked up at Sarah. “You know, there are easier ways to get me out of my clothes. You could’ve just asked.”
It was an attempt at humor.
It didn’t work.
Sarah snatched the phone from his hand and flung it overboard.
Dade was so surprised he didn’t know how to react. “What the hell?”
She didn’t smile. “I had to make sure you were clean.”
He glanced at Cobb, then back at Sarah. “Clean? Is that why you put me through all of that—because you think I’m wearing a wire?”
Sarah ignored the query. She was there to ask questions, not answer them. “Who were the two men that chased us through the city?”
“The two men? Do you mean last week?”
“Of course I mean last week. Why, do you get chased through the city a lot?”
“Not a lot,” he joked, “but—”
“Who are they?” she demanded.
“Trust me,” he said, trying to keep his cool, “they have nothing to do with either one of you. It’s just a little problem I’m having.”
“Really? They have nothing to do with us, huh?” Spittle flew from her mouth as she vented her frustration. “If that’s the case, how do you explain this?”
She grabbed the photo of Tarek and thrust it toward Dade, narrowly missing his face by inches. He forced a smile and took a step back to focus on the image. Then she watched his eyes widen in fascination as he studied the mutilated corpse of the goon. In the photo, Tarek looked like he had been dropped into a food processor.
“I’ve seen him look better,” Dade admitted.
Then, as he took the time to think things through, his cool demeanor started to melt in the hot Egyptian sun. First he looked at the photo, then he glanced over at Cobb, who stared at him without a hint of amusement on his face, then back to the picture of his adversary. As he did, beads of sweat pooled on his upper lip.
Suddenly, he realized how far they were from shore.
“Wait,” Dade demanded. “How did you get this? Did you…?”
Sarah let the question linger. If he was willing to believe that she or Cobb had killed the goon, she wasn’t going to correct him.
At least not yet.
“That’s not important,” she said as she handed the photo to Cobb. “Right now, you need to explain what you’ve gotten us into.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” She was tired of Dade’s evasive responses. She needed answers, and she was willing to do whatever was necessary to get them.
She lifted her shirt and pulled her Glock 19 from her waistband. “The only thing that connects him to me is you. So you see my problem—if someone sent him after me, there’s only one person it could be.”
Dade fell silent again.
To drive home her impatience, she aimed the gun at Dade. “Simon, I swear to God I’m not bluffing. One more chance before I get pissed: what the hell is going on?”
Dade took a deep breath. “His name is Farouk Tarek. He works—I mean, worked—for a local gangster named Hassan. Trust me, Hassan is bad news. He thinks he’s the King of Alexandria, and everyone else is his pawn.”
“Including you?” she asked.
Dade closed his eyes and slicked back his wet hair. “Yeah, I used to work for him. I didn’t like it, but he gave me no choice.”
“Doing what?” she asked.
“I was his security consultant. Not personal security, mind you. I wasn’t willing to protect that bastard. I simply showed him how to get past everyone else’s security. I explained the blind spots, the workarounds: everything he needed to avoid detection.”
“What was he targeting?”
“Banks, businesses, ritzy homes—anywhere that might have hoards of cash or valuables.” Dade glanced away. “You have to understand: it was my only way out of a bad situation. When you owe money to the wrong people, they don’t just tax you, they own you. You do whatever they want, or you don’t wake up in the morning.”
“And Hassan is the wrong person to owe?”
Dade nodded. “One of the worst. But he gave me a choice: he’d forgive my debt in exchange for doing what I’m good at. I figured most of the stuff was insured anyway, and a clean in-and-out is much better than a messy smash-and-grab. I know they weren’t victimless crimes, but at least my way kept people from getting hurt.”
“Except it didn’t, right?” She had been around enough criminals in her life to know that something invariably went wrong. “Tell me what happened.”
Dade glanced away again. “There was this Saudi sheik. He had a big, extravagant house with minimal security. We knew that he and his bodyguards were leaving the country for a few days, so we timed our break-in for the first night. I figured we’d clean him out in a couple of hours, and he’d never know what hit him.”
“Let me guess: he left a guard behind.”
“Worse,” Dade answered. “When the goons broke in, they found three housekeepers and a gardener. Normally they would have been staying in the servants’ quarters out back, but I guess they decided to pamper themselves in the mansion for a couple of days while the sheik was away. They weren’t a threat, but Hassan’s men didn’t hesitate. They just gunned them down and started packing up the loot.”
“And?” she demanded.
“And what?”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“A week after the massacre, the police received a recording from a security camera mounted outside the property. It showed two men—both employees of Hassan—pulling up to the house in a van and leaving a couple of hours later. It wasn’t enough to get Hassan arrested, but it was enough to rattle his cage.”
Sarah worked out the rest on her own. “It was you, wasn’t it? You sent the video to the police. You couldn’t let them get away with murder, and you thought the heat it brought would force Hassan to stop.”
“That’s what I’d hoped,” Dade admitted. “But somehow he figured out that I had set him up, and I’ve been running from him ever since.”
Sarah lowered her weapon. “You went from being one of his biggest assets to being his biggest liability. That’s why he sent the goons to kill you.”
Dade shook his head. “Killing isn’t enough for them. They could have done that to me on the street. No, Hassan wants to catch me alive so he can watch me suffer.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Dade couldn’t stop thinking about the image of Tarek. It would stay with him for quite some time. “What happened to the other one?”
“The other one?” Sarah asked.
“The other goon that chased us. Trust me, Tarek was too dumb to work alone. If he was tracking you to get to me, you can bet that Kamal was there, too.”
“Kamal who?”
“Gaz Kamal,” Dade replied. “He’s the uglier, meaner half of the demonic duo.”
“He was there,” Cobb assured him. Although he had promised Sarah that she could run the interrogation, he sensed that the conversation was headed in the wrong direction. This was his subtle way to get things back on track. “We saw Kamal in the tunnels with six of his men. Seven if you count Tarek.”
“Wait. What tunnels?” Dade asked.
Sarah answered. “The tunnels beneath the city.”
Dade’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. “Wait a goddamn minute! That was you? The explosion was you? What in the hell were you thinking? Do you know how many innocent people were killed in the—”
“Simon,” she shouted to cut him off, “you know damn well that I would never blow up a city. And neither would Jack. We did everything in our power to stop it.”
“Wait,” Dade said as he tried to fit the pieces in his head, “are you saying that Kamal and Tarek planted the bombs? Why would they do that? That was Hassan’s territory. Do you know how much money he’s going to lose from the blast?”
Sarah shook her head. “It wasn’t them, either.”
“Then I’m really confused.” Dade clasped his hand behind his head and squeezed the back of his neck. “If it wasn’t them and it wasn’t you, who the hell was it?”
Sarah tried to explain. “Kamal and Tarek followed us into the tunnels, but someone else followed them. Whoever those guys were, they weren’t messing around. We know they slaughtered at least four of Kamal’s crew, including Tarek himself. They also rigged the tunnels with explosives and collapsed the city block.”
Dade considered the information. He chose to focus on the part of the equation that affected him directly. “Do you know if Kamal escaped?”
Sarah nodded. “He made it out of the tunnels before the bombs detonated. He might have been swallowed in the rubble, but we have to assume that he’s still alive.”
“Great,” he said sarcastically. “Glad to hear it.”
“Believe it or not, it is good news for you,” Cobb offered.
Dade stared at him. “How do you figure?”
“At least you know what he looks like. I can’t say the same about the bombers.”
Dade shrugged. “What does it really matter? It’s not like you’ll be sticking around to deal with them.”
“Of course we will,” she said defiantly.
“No, you won’t,” Dade argued. “We have to get you out of the city as soon as possible. In fact, we need to get you out of the country. I don’t know what you’ve stumbled into, but it’s only going to get worse. Kamal and Hassan will be out for blood, and it’s pretty clear that the other guys don’t give a damn about collateral damage. They were willing to blow up a huge chunk of the city, and I’d be willing to bet that they’re looking for you right now.”
“Simon,” she said, “you’re not following. We can’t leave the city because the mystery men took a member of our team. We’re not going anywhere until we get her back. And you’re going to help us.”
“Sarah, I just told you—I’m on the outside looking in. Kamal wants me dead. Hassan wants me tortured. And I have absolutely no idea why anyone would want to blow up a city block. Simply put, I don’t know who you’re looking for.”
“Listen,” she shouted, “you kept me in the dark about Hassan and his goons. Everything that happened after that—the uninvited guests, the explosion in the city, the disappearance of my friend—it all traces back to your mistake.”
She leaned in closer and whispered in a threatening tone. “You might not know who we’re looking for, but you’re damn well going to find out. It’s time to start atoning for your sins, or else I’ll shoot you myself and feed your body to the sharks.”
Cobb watched as a look of panic washed over Dade. His tanned face grew pale. His dark eyes glazed over. His mouth hung open in fear. Cobb had no idea what Sarah had whispered, but it sure as hell was effective.
Dade stammered. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“We do,” Cobb said. “You can start by looking into the ambulance that the bombers used to escape. We tried to chase it, but it got away from us in the chaos. By the time we caught up to it, the kidnappers were gone and so was our colleague.”
“Does your colleague have a name?”
“Of course she does,” Cobb said, “but I’ll be damned if I’m going to tell it to you. So far, you’ve proven to be the least reliable asset I’ve ever worked with. Prove your worth, then we’ll see if we can trust you with her name.”
Although Dade had plenty of reasons to help their cause, Cobb figured it couldn’t hurt to mention that they were looking for a woman. After all, it was the guilt Dade felt from losing a bunch of young girls to the sex trade business that had made him feel indebted to Sarah to begin with, so Cobb decided to use the fact to his advantage.
“What do you know about the ambulance?” Dade asked.
Cobb showed him a picture of the vehicle on his phone. “Standard issue Volkswagen for Egyptian Emergency Services.”
Dade was familiar with it. “Probably stolen in the chaos after the explosion.”
“I’m not so sure,” Cobb explained. “The driver was wearing a paramedic’s uniform, and his partner was calmly looking through the victims. I could be wrong, but I think they had this planned in advance. Maybe not the kidnapping, but at least the idea to use an ambulance to evacuate injured colleagues from the scene.”
Sarah reached into her bag and handed a street map to Dade. It traced the route of Cobb and McNutt’s pursuit through the city. “We need you to reach out to every source you have. Start with those along these streets. Find out if anyone saw anything in the last few days. Maybe someone caught a glimpse of the vehicle or recognized a face. And if you have any clients with surveillance cameras along the route, pull that footage whether they want you to or not. Don’t take no for an answer.”
Dade nodded in understanding.
“Seriously,” she stressed, “I don’t care if you have to burn every bridge you’ve built in this city to get the information that we need. This is a matter of life or death.”
“I get it,” Dade assured her. “I’ll start checking right away. Or at least I could have if you hadn’t hurled my phone into the Mediterranean.”
“When did I do that?” she asked innocently.
Though it had appeared as if she had tossed his phone into the water, she had actually palmed the device and had thrown a burner phone instead. The sleight of hand not only grabbed Dade’s attention, it had given Cobb the opportunity to hack into his phone.
Using a program that Garcia had given to him before they left, Cobb had secretly copied the phone’s contents—contacts, pictures, texts, and so on—without ever touching the device. Before terminating the wireless connection, Cobb had also inserted a next-generation GPS virus into his phone. Even a surveillance expert like Dade would never notice the tracker because it wasn’t an actual bug. It was merely a line of code that would force his phone to send out a continuous signal for Garcia to follow.
“Here you go,” she said as she handed the phone to Dade. “I know how much you depend on this thing. It would have been cruel to throw it into the sea.”
Dade grinned at the turn of events. “You sneaky devil! That’s the Sarah I remember from six years ago. I’m glad she’s still in there, somewhere, under that rough exterior.”
Sarah laughed as she squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Simon. I’m the same ol’ Sarah from back in the day. Always have been, always will be.”
“Glad to hear it!”
She leaned in closer and whispered, “But here’s the thing. The sweet girl that you remember is the fake Sarah. The real Sarah is the angry one.”
“If you say so.”
She dug her nails into his skin. “Oh, I do say so. And if you fuck me on this, Kamal and Hassan will be the least of your problems. Understood?”
“Understood,” he said as he took a step back. “Take me back to shore, and I’ll get started right away. I promise.”
Cobb shook his head. “Not quite yet. Before we go anywhere, I need you to do me a favor. You’re not going to like it, but you’re going to do it anyway. After all, my life was endangered in the tunnels, too.”
